


Pianissimo

by Lookingkindofdumb



Series: Empire [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen, OCs - Freeform, OFC - Freeform, OMC - Freeform, Probably won't make sense unless you read the one before, Tony's POV, a day in the life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 22:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13421166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lookingkindofdumb/pseuds/Lookingkindofdumb
Summary: Tony opens his mouth to argue the point, the smell doesn't necessarily remind him of any of the sewage systems he has been down and he has experienced a lot of sewage systems. He really needs a new career.





	Pianissimo

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: um...one instance of someone in a coma? but that is more or less what ties this fic with the last one.

"Now you press this key right here." Tony plays the note, compensating as the piano sticks. He really ought to talk to someone about that. With a frown of concentration two small hands span the grimy keys and carefully, almost painfully slowly, repeat the small phrase. They both laugh as it ends on a discordant note that would have had Tony's piano teacher smacking his hands and declaring him hopeless.

"Pretty good, except for the last part." Tony says, mostly truthfully. 

"I don't think I'm very good at the piano, Mr Anthony." Melissa confesses, her eyes big.

"Nonsense, my dear." Tony says in his best British accent, channelling Ducky as best he can. She giggles, so he's doing something right. "You've nearly got the hang of chopsticks."

She gives him a reproving look. Tony holds out with bravery and honour. Okay, he folds like wet taffy. Sue him, Melissa's got better guilt trippy eyes than either Abby or Gibbs. (Ducky's the one they have to look out for, he looks all understanding and mildly disappointed in a way that has everyone spilling their guts in seconds and then feeling good about doing so. He's their secret weapon.)

"Okay, so we have a little room for improvement. But look at the material we have to work with." He gestures to the rather dilapidated piano that could politely be called 'run down' ten years ago now.

"Yeah. It smells." Melissa wrinkles her nose.

"I know, like cheese and stinky feet. And cheese." Tony pulls a disgusted expression.

"Mouldy cheese." Melissa agrees fervently.

"Mouldy, rotting cheese." He counters.

"Mouldy, rotting, gym shoe cheese." Melissa narrows her eyes at him. Ha! He will nail this competition, he has metaphors coming out of his metaphors. Or, something like that.

"Mould filled, putridly rotting, gym shoe smelling, maggoty cheese." Tony still remembers the maggots Abby kept in her lab. She claimed they were forensic evidence. Tony calls bull. He heard about the great escape of the bunnies.

"Sewage." Melissa says. Tony opens his mouth to argue the point, the smell doesn't necessarily remind him of any of the sewage systems he has been down and he has experienced a lot of sewage systems. He really needs a new career. 

"Melissa, Tony, I'm glad to see you're having fun." Melissa's dad walks over, catching Melissa as she rockets off the piano stool and into him. Ouch, Tony is suddenly very glad he doesn't have kids who use him as a spring board and safety net all in one.

"Mr Anthony tried to teach me chopsticks. He isn't as good a teacher as Mr Jeffries or Miss Fraiser but I'm not very good at piano either." Melissa admits frankly, with the peculiar sort of earnestness that comes across as charming rather than irritating.

"That so. Maybe you two will have to give us a recital sometime." Jason says, with a smile, hoisting her over his shoulder, much to her delight if Tony is deciphering her squeals correctly. Maybe she's actually yelling for help in alien tongues. But it sounds more like giggling.

"Thanks for watching over her while we visit dad." Melissa's mum says quietly, stepping over to the piano and watching her husband and child with damp eyes. She looks happy enough though, so this visit hasn't upset her too much this time.

"Was I supposed to be watching her? I thought she was keeping me out of trouble." Tony blinks exaggeratedly. "Don't tell me I paid her for my job?!"

"You paid her?" Sarah asks.

"Mr Anthony gave me a dollar for the vending machine. I wanted Reeces and Mr Anthony says chocolate is a bean and so really chocolate and peanuts is actually good for you. I told him candy rots your teeth." Melissa explains, settling on her dad's shoulders with practised ease.

"She keeps saying things like that. I don't know what you are teaching your daughter." Tony shakes his head sadly and Sarah laughs softly. Almost everything she does is muted, a drab wallflower content with just being. 

"Science. We teach her science." Jason says. "And facts of life."

"Lies." Tony denies sadly.

"Well, maybe if-" Jason's counter (he gets weirdly passionate about science-y things, he would have some good conversations with Abby) is interrupted as Tony's phone goes off, the music McSneaky set it to loud and obnoxious in the play room in the long term ward.

"I think that's our cue to leave." Sarah says softly as Gibbs informs him about the newest dead body requiring their presence. Tony waves an absent goodbye, mind more focussed on the case. He jumps when Melissa offers him a kiss on the cheek. He snaps his phone shut and watches the trio leave down the hall, the two adults swinging Melissa between them.

He pokes his head in Sofia's room, she's exactly as he left her, like always. He tucks away her latest book before signing out of the hospital and making his way to the park.

He lets the smooth rich tones of Sinatra soothe him as he drives, far more appealing than any of the jarring notes Melissa had coaxed from the ancient piano.

He parks next to McGee's car, eyeing the latest sticker on the bumper with amusement and continual despair at McGee's poor taste. He's tried to educate him many times but Tim simply refuses to listen to reason.

"Glad you could make it, DiNozzo." Gibbs says when Tony manages to find them by stumbling over a particularly submerged root. 

"Really? I know I'm the life of the party boss, nice of you to notice." Tony smiles sunnily. Gibbs looks at him until Tony registers the tone. "Oh, sarcasm. It was a fifty minute trip, if you drive by normal standards, like adhering to traffic laws. Ignore that, I forgot who I was talking to." Tony shakes his head and accepts the camera Gibbs holds out to him without comment.

"Sketches too." Gibbs orders.

"On it boss. What are McGoo and Daveed up to?" Tony sets to taking snaps of the body.

"Bagging and tagging." Gibbs answers succinctly as the two appear holding a plethora of evidence bags in their arms.

"Took you a long time to arrive." Tim notes.

"I was fifty minutes away." Tony says in what he will eternally swear was not a whine.

"Your apartment is closer, fifteen minutes from here, I believe." Ziva comments. Evidently the bagging and tagging is extremely boring today.

"I don't think I like that you know where I live." Tony says suspiciously, shooting her a wary glance. Ziva smiles at him, her man-eater smile, the one that makes Tony feel like a partially devoured insect.

She steps closer to him then frowns. Tony watches with extreme trepidation as she leans in and sniffs.

"Why do you smell of hospital?" She asks and Tony is actually relieved to get a somewhat normal reason for her unusual actions.

"Must be a new cologne. Eau de antiseptic. I'm pretty sure Nikki Jardine would buy it." Tony says then wishes he hadn't. He knows her brother is in a ward similar to the one Sofia is residing and the comment is too on the nose for even him. Luckily the others miss the subtext and Tony begins marking out for a sketch.

"You are not ill." Ziva checks, looking him over, assessing. She hasn't dropped the bone.

"Fit as a fiddle." Tony states, then frowns. "Although, I'm not sure why a fiddle is fit. Or why you'd like to be compared to one."

Luckily their resident trivia compiler appears just in time to explain the troubling phrase.

"It is because, my dear boy, the phrase comes from a time when the word 'fit' was used to mean 'suitable' as in fit for a purpose. The phrase was originally 'fine as a fiddle' and comes from the early 1600s although I daresay the term was used in conversation long before it was actually written down, recording it for future historians to analyse." Ducky explains, stepping over to the body.

"I apologise for our tardiness Jethro, the van broke down. Mr Palmer forgot to check the fuel gauge." Ducky continues.

"I forgot to check the fuel gauge." Jimmy repeats indignantly. "I _did_ check the fuel. I _always_ check the fuel levels." He protests, squatting next to the medical examiner and holding out the liver probe for Ducky.

"Well evidently you missed the opportunity this time, Mr Palmer." Ducky chides.

"I didn't forget!" Jimmy exclaims.

"Then why on earth did the truck come to a standstill halfway to our destination yet seem to magically perk up when the mechanic topped up the fuel levels?" Ducky asks dryly.

"Maybe the gauge is broken. I checked it, I always do." Jimmy asserts.

"Well, next time- ah. Liver temperature is- oh dear."

"Time of death, Duck?" Gibbs enquires, sounding almost mellow in the light, summer warm day.

"This is only the preliminary examination. I have yet to ascertain all the components that may have led to this man's death. However, I can estimate that the poor fellow expired around eight hours ago but I shall have to make sure." Ducky qualifies, handing back the probe to Palmer.

Tony finishes off the last couple of lines to his sketch and compares it to the scene. He's good at crime scene sketches, was certainly the best in FLETC (after having been a cop for six years being the best of a group of newbies, most of whom had never held a gun let alone seen a dead body, was really not an achievement), but something about them unsettles him.

Maybe it's seeing the stark reality of a dead body and the scene of death with just a few pencil lines that seems stark and absent of colour to Tony. A crime scene sketch doesn't convey the sense of loss an actual body in front of you does, or even a picture of one. The grey lines are just as blank as the victims sightless eyes. Empty. Flat.

Tony tucks away the paper and glances at the scene.

The sun peaks through the clouds and peers through the foliage, smothering the scene in a glowing golden halo. 

"Oh." Tony says, as the light touches on the victims hair, burnishing it into a fiery red. He almost looks at peace, daydreaming with his eyes open. The sun paints his cheeks with a false rosy hew, like he is just holding his breath for a moment. 

"DiNozzo." Gibbs says, looking directly at him.

"Look around." Tony says to them all. Ducky and Jimmy step away from the body to better take in the scene. "Look at the way the body is positioned, between the two trees, wearing his dress uniform, medals on display. The way the sun melts all signs of care from his face." Tony instructs, taking a few more photos, trying to capture on camera what he can see with his naked eye. He probably fails, his photos are clear but not artistic.

Like this scene clearly is.

"It's art." Tony concludes. The sun hides behind the clouds again and sucks out the magic of the scene, leaving behind pale washed out faces and a body set in rigor.

"A crazy version of art, the guy is dead. Probably poison, considering the signs at his mouth and nose." Jimmy notes.

"You are quite right, Mr Palmer. And you, Anthony, someone set the scene up quite carefully. His hair has been brushed recently, nails trimmed. Face washed. Yes, this was positioned for people to see." Ducky says.

"Which means the killer _wanted_ people to see." Gibbs sighs.

"See what?" Tim asks. They look at him. "I know, there's the body, but see what about it?" He clarifies.

"Good question. We'll have to ask them." Gibbs says.

"You have a suspect already? Fast work boss." Tony prods. He accepts the idea of sarcasm but rarely indulges in other people's bouts. 

"Better be faster than your driving." Gibbs mutters.

"At least I don't get pulled over for speeding." Tony responds without a pause.

"Sofia doing well?" Gibbs asks, because he likes having the last word and making sure they all know how omniscient he is.

"Same as ever. She's a good listener, lets me talk for hours. Cheaper than therapy, that's for sure." Tony says flippantly.

"She the one who gave you that new hair do?" Gibbs asks slyly. Tony reaches up to his hair without a second thought. It feels normal, wait - there. He tugs out a sparkly gold hair clip.

"This means war. I am going to beat Melissa at her own game." Tony vows, tucking the hair clips safely into his jacket pocket, she'll want it back, knowing her.

"Who is Melissa?" Ziva asks as they head to the parking lot.

Tony, lost in revenge fantasies full of unicorn hair grips, sparkly scrunchies and ribbons ripe for sticking in Melissa's long hair, doesn't bother responding verbally. He just offers a grin.

 

#

 

Unfortunately revenge for the hair accessory has to wait. The case heats up, cools down, gets moderately tepid then comes close to burning inferno. Literally, like a tissue was set on fire.

Accidently, by a thrown cigarette, but still. It set fire to the wastepaper basket which in turn lit up the curtains. Tony got to brandish his awesome fire extinguisher skills (he manages to get the foam on about everything but the curtains that caught fire, luckily the boss wrestles the material onto the floor and into a pile of helpfully left foam) and for once his head remains intact. No knock out blows.

Well, except for the head slap he's probably in for, going by Gibbs' expression.

 

#

 

Tony winces exaggeratedly from the smack to his head, pulling a martyred expression for Tim's benefit as he heads back to his desk. It was a light tap, just a reminder really and Tony had kind of been angling for it, usually the boss doesn't pander to his antics but today is a good day apparently.

"You shouldn't hit people. Daddy says it isn't nice." A small, familiar, voice says and Tony peers over his desk to see a little girl standing with her hands on her hips, staring down the boss. His lips twitch.

"Well, your father is right, there." Gibbs acknowledges seriously, the way he always is with kids.

"Mom says to just wait until people aren't looking then hit them back." Melissa continues and deliberately steps on Gibbs' foot with intent. At least she doesn't kick him.

"Mr Anthony?" Melissa comes over to his desk and looks at him seriously.

"Yes?" Tony asks, wondering what on earth is going to come out her lips next. This is _brilliant_.

"You should tell a teacher about his behaviour. He shouldn't hit you." She says, earnest and actually indignant on his behalf. Tony bites back a laugh.

"He doesn't really hit me, Melissa." Tony informs her, she looks doubtful, she never trusts anything he says, its hurtful. "It's more like a..." he glances round for inspiration, "love tap." He concludes. McGee snorts loudly then tries to turn it into a cough and ends up choking.

"A 'love tap'." Melissa echoes, dubiously. "Like when mommy smacks daddy's bottom?" 

Tony can't help it, he slides off the chair and laughs. Proper laughs, the kind that hook into the centre of your stomach and yank all your organs around. Painful but oh, so worth it.

"Yeah. Something like that." He manages to wheeze out, trying, really trying to contain himself. He is pretty sure he heard the illusive sound of Ziva laughing too, that's one thing off his bucket list.

"I guess it is okay then." Melissa says, still frowning at him. She's so serious that he reaches out, he's almost on level with her now he's sitting on the floor, and tugs at her neatly braided hair.

"What are you doing at the navy yard, Melissa?" He asks, getting to his feet and brushing off his trousers. There is dust on the carpet, they really need to be cleaned more often.

"Looking for you." She answers. "You're a police man, right?"

"A cop, yeah." Tony nods.

"You have to help mommy." Melissa demands.

"Help Sarah? What's wrong?" 

"Mommy told me to be quiet and then she pushed me through the window when the man's back was turned. She told me to find the police or daddy. I think she needs help so I told Derek to take me to NCIS headquarters because you're the only police man I know." Melissa explains, very, very seriously.

Tony looks up to see a man standing awkwardly with a visitors pass.

"Hi." The man waves, tripling the levels of awkward.

"He found me and asked me where my guardian was. I told him to take me here." Melissa explains further.

"She was- with the crying." The guy says, making a convoluted hand gesture. His eyes are wide, like he is still shell shocked by the fact that a little girl was sobbing. Like he couldn't imagine anyone not stopping and seeing what was wrong then taking the kid where she said to go.

"Where were you, Melissa? Where was she when you found her?" Tony directs to Derek.

"We were at the bank." Melissa answers.

"Outside the - yeah, it was close to a bank." Derek agrees, nodding furiously.

"The men shouted and told us to stay on the ground. They wore black socks over their faces, it made them look very silly. Mommy pushed me through the gap in the window, I almost got stuck. She couldn't fit too, none of the adults could." Melissa adds more detail.

"Sounds like a bank robbery." Derek points out unnecessarily, eyes wide.

"What bank?" Gibbs asks, voice cracking like a whip. McGee's fingers fly across the keyboard and Ziva dons her gun.

"By, uh, West street and the fountain. I think?" Derek says vaguely, going pale at facing Gibbs' stare.

"Borgin and sons." Melissa supplies the name helpfully.

"Metro will have-" Gibbs begins but Ziva is already on the phone and talking to Metro's switch board.

"Gibbs, the panic buttons were pushed. Metro have surrounded the building. The negotiator is talking with the robbers. The officer I spoke to said it should be wrapping up now, no injuries reported." Ziva supplies once she hangs up.

"Ziva, McGee with me. Tony, stay put." Gibbs orders, flicking his gaze pointedly over to Melissa when Tony goes to protest. 

"Call when you get more information." Tony says as they rush out. Apparently, when it comes to their personal lives, jurisdiction doesn't matter. This is not an NCIS matter but Gibbs will just offer his teams help, probably, unless he disagrees with the procedure and takes over. Which happens most of the time and means Tony has to spend weeks kissing ass just to smooth things over.

Tony glances around their desks, the room seems emptier without his team. He sighs.

"Sit down before you fall down." He says to Derek, who is practically hyperventilating. 

The kid collapses into the chair at Tim's desk and visibly tries to collect himself. Tony isn't the coddling sort so he doesn't quite know what to do here. Usually he irritates people back to their usual selves, that tactic probably won't work with this guy. He tosses over a bottle of water and a chocolate bar from Ziva's desk. She'll find the wrapper in McGee's bin and the ensuing battle of accusations and denials will be fun to watch.

"Hey, I think you left something of yours with me. I don't think it is quite my colour." Tony says, bringing out the sparkly gold hair clip from his desk draw.

"Don't be silly. Gold is definitely your colour. It brings out your eyes." A warmly amused, husky voice says.

"Hey, Abby." Tony greets. Gibbs (or Tim) probably called her to come and help him with his charges. Tony is definitely not trusted with kids alone.

"Tony. Going to introduce me to your friends?"

"Melissa, meet our resident Goth Queen, she does all the mysterious science-y things that your dad likes so much. Abby, meet my gallant defender, my knight in shining armour, she took on Gibbs for me and lived to tell the tale." Tony finishes in a mock whisper.

"A knight! Wow, I've never met one of those before." Abby grins.

"I'm not really a knight. Mr Anthony is just being silly." Melissa informs her.

"Yeah, he's silly a lot." Abby grins. "But that's why we love him, right?"

"And this kind Samaritan is Derek. He brought Melissa here." Tony gestures to Derek, who after inhaling the water seems to be on a much more even keel. Enough to stare at Abby, anyway.

"Hi." Abby waves. Derek goes pale again. She rushes over to make sure he isn't about to actually faint. "You're nearly as pale as one of Ducky's bodies in autopsy. Do you have a condition or something?" Abby rambles on.

"You are very brave." Tony remarks, to Melissa. She plays with her gold hair clip.

"I want to call daddy." She says abruptly. Tony hands over his phone, not quite sure what to do or say. Kids have never been his strong point, in fact, he often makes them hate him for reasons he doesn't quite understand. Melissa is kind of the exception to the rule but it might just be that she hasn't had enough exposure to him yet.

"I don't know his work number." Melissa says and looks like she is going to cry.

"Do you know where he works?" Tony asks. She nods, pressing her lips together to try and hold back the tears. "Well, you know what my job is, right?" 

"You're a police man. You catch bad guys." Melissa answers simply.

"Yep. And that involves finding out what people do, where they work, all their contact numbers and information. NCIS stands for Naval Criminal Investigative Services. So, if I have his name, it is Jason, right?" He checks just to have her give him an unimpressed look. "Right, so I have his work address, his name, finding his work number should be easy. I'll call the switchboard now." Tony says and Melissa beams.

Once Jason is caught up with what is happening he says he will come to the navy yard straight away. Which, considering where he works, will take at least an hours driving, more if you obey traffic laws. Melissa seems more settled once she has spoken with her father. Abby, having to actually get some forensic work done for Balboa's team, leaves but Derek looks a lot more alive now, so her visit did some good.

Tony looks from the empty desks, to Melissa doodling on a case report and Derek slowly finishing off the chocolate and comes to a decision.

"Let's go raid the vending machine." He says, dragging them into the break room and practically cleaning out the machine of snacks. He even pays for them, after Melissa stares at him with her guilt inducing eyes.

The pile of candy is practically bigger than Melissa so Tony has the brilliant idea of an eating contest between the three of them.

Which is why, when Palmer comes up he finds Tony lying on the floor groaning, Melissa smugly finishing off a Reeces cup and Derek looking bewildered.

"Death by chocolate?" Jimmy asks, eyeing the empty wrappers on the table.

"I've never seen such carnage." Derek mutters, eyes wide. "And I go to frat parties." He adds. "Sometimes. Once. I mean, there are frat parties in my general residence. Sort of."

"She is magic. Where does she even put it all?" Tony says, sitting up and looking suspiciously at Melissa. 

"I didn't have lunch." Melissa explains.

"Didn't you have an entire pizza for breakfast?" Jimmy asks.

"And?" Tony responds, flopping back on the floor and clutching his stomach dramatically.

"And two breakfast burritos as a snack?" 

"I was hungry." Tony says defensively.

"I'm just pointing out that scientifically you came at the challenge with differing levels of fullness." Jimmy says, locating a mug from the sink and frowning critically at the inside. "You think this needs cleaning?"

"You're saying that Melissa had an unfair advantage." Tony narrows in. He glares at Melissa. "I am onto you." He warns.

"You didn't specify the rules. You just said whoever eats the most wins." Melissa points out reasonably, neatly piling up her rubbish and putting it in the bin.

"If this place is anything like the frat houses at college then you should wash it." Derek advises Jimmy.

"It's a work place." Jimmy says doubtfully. Derek glances pointedly at Tony who is fending off small chocolate smeared hands reaching to mess with his face. "I'll wash it." Jimmy decides.

"Good idea. Someone keeps switching the sugar for salt and Agent Filig puts hot sauce in his coffee." Tony agrees and Jimmy rewashes the mug.

"I thought you were the one who kept switching the sugar for salt." Jimmy says.

"Oh, yeah. Probably." Tony shrugs. He also switched the coffee to decaff, no one has noticed yet but the security guys are looking twitchier by the hour. And Vance is going through more and more toothpicks. It's a shame Gibbs outsources his coffee most of the time.

"And you said this isn't like college?" Derek observes to no one in particular.

 

#

 

Gibbs returns with Ziva to inform them that the attempted robbers have been arrested and metro is busy collecting statements. McGee is sitting on Sarah but she should be done soon and he'll bring her to the navy yard. Apparently she was very relieved to hear that Melissa was safe.

Tony has mostly recovered from his chocolate poisoning by then (how could chocolate betray him so?) and he and Melissa are debating the finer points of proper eating etiquette.

"That is the fish knife. You see the notched tip? That's for deboning fish as you eat, pulling out the skeleton. The flat blade makes it very good at flinging peas across the table, it provides better force behind the throw, just in case the person you are aiming for is sitting at the other end of the table." Tony explains, showing Melissa a picture. The fish course had been his favourite for that exact reason. Flinging peas into people's cleavages and into peoples' drinks was the highlight of many dinner parties.

"You aren't supposed to throw food at the table. Mommy said so." Melissa says primly, giving him a stern look.

"Well, my mother held the record for pea flinging in our house. She managed to send one into her grandfather's open mouth when he was snoring. It was her tried and true method of waking him up." Tony says, more or less truthfully. She had excellent aim, especially at the dinner table. She was also unparalleled at getting away with the crime, affected innocence was her middle name.

"And the ice-cream fork? Best tool for throwing fruit."

"I think you are making this up. I don't think ice-cream forks exist." Melissa says doubtfully.

"Oh, they do. Look." He brings up a picture on the internet.

"But you eat ice-cream with a spoon." Melissa points out.

"I know! It always seemed redundant to me. But I suppose some people like fruit chunks in their ice-cream." Tony agrees.

"Yuck." Melissa observes.

"Totally. Ice-cream is for ice-cream, no fruit needed." Tony holds out his hand for a high five. Melissa hands him her last Reeces cup, instead. Tony sulks at being left hanging.

"What does your mommy do? When she isn't having food throwing competitions?" Melissa asks, curiously. "My mommy is an architect, she designs bridges."

"My mother was an actress." Tony answers after a pause.

"What did she perform?" Melissa asks and she must be the most articulate seven year old he has ever seen.

"Anything and everything. Tragedy, drama, a romance for the ages, comedy, every genre you can list." Tony says extravagantly . 

One day she would be Eleanor of Aquitaine, languishing in a tower accused of poisoning her husbands lover - brave and enduring. Another she would be Marie Antoinette, the life and light of the party - bright, witty and always out for a good time. Romeo and Juliet - running off to marry Tony's father despite her families misgivings. Every day a different story, her life her stage.

"What was her best act?" Melissa asks innocently, taking in everything he says without even pausing to consider whether it is true or not. Trusting his words.

"Life." 

Melissa looks puzzled but before she can question further her eyes land on someone coming over and her face lights up.

"Daddy!" She exclaims, leaping from Tony's desk into Jason's arms.

"Hi darling." Jason says, holding her close and tucking her up in his arms.

"Was any of that true?" Ziva whispers, leaning against his desk.

"Some of it." Tony answers. She looks at him, sighs and wanders back to her own desk.

"Your wife should be here in ten minutes." Gibbs says and Jason thanks him.

"So, I hear you've been on babysitting duty." Jason says, stealing Tony's chair and adjusting Melissa in his arms.

"My rates are reasonable." Tony says.

"We had an eating contest. I won. Tony couldn't finish his chocolate. Derek didn't even try." Melissa informs him solemnly. 

"That so. He hasn't been telling you chocolate is healthy again, has he?" Jason asks suspiciously.

"No. I don't think he is lying, I think he actually believes chocolate is good for you." Melissa looks distressed by Tony's apparent cluelessness. Tony bites down a grin.

"Really? We'll have to educate him. How about dinner?" Jason directs this to Tony. "As thanks for looking after her." He adds.

"This is all so sudden." Tony clutches at his heart and flutters his eye lashes. "A dinner date?"

"Well, I have a thing for sassy brunettes." Jason says dryly.

"You say such sweet things. But what about your wife?" Tony gasps with mock horror.

"What about me?" Sarah says, practically running into Tony's desk to get to Melissa and running a hand down her back to check she is okay.

"I'm leaving you for him, so sorry." Jason informs her, giving her a kiss on the cheek and wrapping an arm around her, suddenly looking a lot more at ease now he knows she is definitely safe.

"Oh, the betrayal. You stealing my man, Tony?" Sarah says wryly.

"I would never, for my heart belongs to another. Run away with me, fair Sarah." Tony says.

"This is so sudden. First my husband, now me? It seems your love is fickle." Sarah points out and Tony mock swoons.

"You found Melissa?" Sarah turns to Derek who nods, again looking positively petrified. "Thank you so much." Sarah breathes, looking at him with damp, earnest eyes, the same expression Melissa sometimes pulls.

Derek squeaks. Tony shoves him into a chair before he topples over. 

"Do you have an anxiety disorder? Because this behaviour is actually worrying." Tony remarks, plonking another bottle of water into Derek's lap.

"I'm just a little high strung." Derek says defensively, clutching the water like a lifeline. "It's results week. I get my results in a few days." He says. Ah, exams, college. Apparently a stressful time for some people.

After years in boarding school and military academy Tony had found it freeing.

"I also have low blood pressure." Derek adds. "So sometimes I pass out."

"...Drink your water." Is all Tony can say to that. He hands Derek the slightly melted Reeces' cup Melissa had given to him.

"Thanks. I think." Derek stares at the chocolate then shrugs and takes a bite.

"Daddy, Mr Anthony's boss hits him! And you said that hitting people is wrong but Mr Anthony said it was a 'love tap' like when mommy smacks you with the dishtowel. Do we need to tell his principal?" Melissa asks seriously, just as Gibbs comes back to his desk.

For the second time that day Tony collapses laughing, mostly because he can imagine the expression on Vance's face if Melissa did just that. After a moment Gibbs' gruff chuckle joins in.

 

#

 

Tony enters the bullpen, empty of people because most of the other agents don't come in at seven in the morning. Tony's never had reasonable hours but the fact that coming in at seven every morning wasn't a new thing when Gibbs first demanded it...well, he really, really needs a new career. Too bad he likes this one.

He stops short at his desk and stares.

There is a huge, and he means _huge_ , vase of hyacinths on his desk and a sparkly silver card. He edges cautiously around, like the flowers might bite (who knows?) and very slowly opens the glittery card addressed to a Mr Anthony.

Yeah, he knows who this is from. He grins when he reaches the part in the card where Melissa tells him that she made sure there were enough flowers that he could give one to all of his lady friends. All of them. Either Melissa has a sly sense of humour that Tony has missed so far or Jason and Sarah have a hand in this. Considering they are her parents and presumably paid for the flowers, Tony knows what his money is on.

Still, once he has deciphered the childish handwriting and misshapen sketch, it is a sweet thank you from the overly serious child. He pins the card up and, grabbing a handful of the hyacinths(he'll come back for refills), he gets up to make the rounds.

There are some people in the building he legitimately cannot go up to and hand a flower, so he just leaves one on their desks. At least then he will be out of range of hand thrown missiles or death glares when they get them.

He greets Ducky with a grin and gently tucks a flower in his button hole. Ducky accepts the unusual action and smiles.

"Why thank you, Anthony. Might I say, quite apt." Ducky runs a gentle finger down the petals.

"Apt?" Tony queries, interested.

"Oh yes, Hyacinths, in the artful language of flowers they symbolise playfulness. Someone has you pegged. Or perhaps, they are being playful in turn." Ducky explains. "Although the original Greek tale of how hyacinths came to be is rather more morbid, as most of the tales are. Apollo and Zephyr were both besotted by the same man and-" Jimmy appears in the doorway, interrupting before Ducky can finish.

"Palmster." Tony greets, clapping him on the shoulder and slipping another hyacinth into Jimmy's shirt pocket.

"Tony." Jimmy smiles, pleased to see him. It's a little startling, someone being outwardly pleased just to see him. "What is this?" Jimmy asks, gesturing to the flower before breaking out in an almighty sneeze.

"Oh dear." Ducky remarks, pushing at Jimmy's shoulder to turn him around. "Do try not to sneeze on the carefully sanitized autopsy tables, Mr Palmer."

"Sorry Doctor Mallard," Jimmy begins miserably before sneezing again.

"Might I suggest not keeping the cause of the allergy so close to your olfactory system?" Ducky says.

"What?" Jimmy sniffs and Tony plucks the flower out of his pocket.

"Sorry Jimmy, didn't know you were allergic." Tony says, keeping the rest of his bundle of flowers away.

"Neither did I." Jimmy shrugs, blowing his nose.

"Well, flowers to deliver, people to woo." Tony says brightly, leaving autopsy and heading to legal. There are some fine upstanding gentlemen and gentlewomen just waiting for a visit from Tony and a special flower. 

That assumption takes a bit of a backseat when he is greeted with a glare. Okay, sometimes they ask for rush jobs for warrants and stuff, which does not make them legals favourites. But Tony comes baring gifts and by the time he leaves most are smiling and he has successfully reduced the amount of hatred aimed at the MCRT team. His team, to be precise. All his hard work will be undone with the next case but at least they aren't plotting his murder. Or worse, gathering evidence to fire him.

By the time he gets back to his desk another vase has arrived and this time the note is in Sarah's handwriting.

It says in a neat, uniform script: Thought one vase might not be enough.

He grins, yeah, Sarah definitely has his measure. Gibbs goes past him to his own desk, ignoring the riotous display.

"Hi boss. Beautiful day, right?" Tony asks, not looking at the windows which are dripping with rain. He gets a blank stare and a coffee sip in response. So, he decides to up the ante.

"Too long has my heart been still, too long have I been silent. Be my valentine?" Tony asks, presenting Gibbs a hyacinth with flourish. Gibbs just looks at him.

"It's April." He says, with no sense of romance.

"You kind of ruin the moment, boss." Tony says, slipping out of his ridiculous wooing tones and placing the flower on Gibbs' pin board. Gibbs eyes it unhappily but makes no move to take it down.

"That's what my ex-wives kept saying." Gibbs mutters. Tony gives a full body shudder with all the effort it takes not to make a pithy remark about that.

"I take it you don't respond well to rose petals and candlelight?" Tony asks. Okay, he couldn't leave it alone, it is a sickness. "Good to know." He pretends to make a mental note while Gibbs rolls his eyes.

"Is it poisonous?" Ziva asks, from where she is examining the flower on her desk with careful scrutiny, keeping her hands behind her back.

"Possibly." Tony considers, he doesn't know much of anything about hyacinths. Or any other flower.

"Tony." 

Tony turns to see Abby standing by his desk with her arms crossed.

"Yes?" Tony asks, like he has no idea why Abby has graced them with a visit.

"Did you give everyone flowers?" She asks, sounding wounded.

"Not everyone. Phil, from security, is off sick and Marsa from accounting is on holiday." Tony clarifies innocently. "Plus, Chrissy, who usually cleans the subbasement toilets around now wasn't there."

"Everyone." Abby repeats, looking at him with eyes that just get wider. It's a scary talent.

"Everyone I like." Tony smiles. "In this building." He qualifies.

"You don't like me?" Abby asks sounding like a kid who has just had someone steal their ice-cream, pop their balloon and now her parents are arguing. Tony can totally see the twinkle in her eyes. Abby can be awful at hiding things. Things like her feelings.

"Well, I didn't think Hyacinths were your thing. No black, no dripping blood and they aren't even the most deadly flower around." Tony explains, holding his hands behind his back.

"Tony." Abby says, very, very seriously. "I want a flower."

"One of these flowers?" Tony gestures to what remains in the vases. Abby can't stop the twitch of her lips but she does attempt a fearsome glare. Not Gibbs level but she's clearly been practicing.

"How about this, instead." He passes her a hyacinth tied with a white ribbon (he stole it from Macy's desk in legal), decorated with hand drawn bats.

"Aw." Abby beams, holding the flower carefully with one hand while she does her best to squeeze him to death with the other arm. Abby hugs are the best when you aren't injured.

"I did not get drawings of little bees." Ziva observes.

"Neither did I." Tim adds from where he is trying to remove the flowers glued to the side of his computer screen without leaving behind stem residue. If it is anything like removing superglue from skin then McGee is not going to be successful.

"Bats. They are bats." Tony protests, ignoring Ziva's smirk.

"Is that- did you give Director Vance one?" Tim sounds vaguely strangled as he looks up at the balcony. 

"Of course. And one for his wife." Tony stares at Tim when he chokes. Tim really needs to learn how to breath without nearly causing respiratory distress.

**Author's Note:**

> Ice cream forks exist. Why? Why? Why?


End file.
